One of my current colleagues sometimes makes fun of himself by admitting he drank the Kool-Aid. Of course that was a sad time that most of us of a certain age remember, when the members of a religious cult drank cyanide laced Kool-Aid and died. Well, I am still alive to write this, so it wasn’t cyanide.
But it was a bit of shock to find out what the little pot contained, after my friend, Dharmendra, who has yet to approve a single sugar cane juice vendor, after 4 trips with him over 20 years, had waved his arm at me and the other two western women attending the Bhagwat (see Bhagwat- Day 1) – to indicate that yes, we should be offered spoons of the blessed holy liquid. It was quite bitter. I figured it was asofeotida (a special spice used in Indian cooking, whose name is not only casually linked with the work “fetid”). Well, ok. As I have previously noted, India is the land of surprises.
When the priest lifted the jug of golden liquid to fill the pot, the first French woman joked that it was whiskey. But no.
“C’etait l’urine de vache,” the second French woman informed me.
Really? I just drank cow pee?
Yes, it was a shock. For at least a minute. Then I remembered that my Zoroastrian friends had been discussing how the new excessively Americanized generation did not want to try this extremely healthful ritual. Mary Boyce, a reknowned, scholarly writer about the Zoroastrians, said that cow urine was the only disinfectant that the early nomadic herders had available.
Ok. Great. That really made me feel a wonderful relief.
I wonder if drinking the holy water was the cause of the very strange and vivid dreams I had last night. Not scary. Not seemingly prophetic. Just very strange and vivid. And one after another.
Well, if I am still alive to visit my Zoroastrian friends again in the future, I guess I can tell them I survived the ritual of their ancient cousins.
I’m glad you tagged this “Dark humor.” You are indeed in the Land of Surprises. How open you are to them!
When in India, do as they do?!